


don't let them in (don't let them see)

by LadyOfShadows



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Sanders Sides (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 21:57:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14434929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfShadows/pseuds/LadyOfShadows
Summary: The saddest people laugh the loudest. Roman is no different. To keep the other traits from seeing just how damaged he is, he plays a part every waking moment.Well, he is the actor, after all.





	don't let them in (don't let them see)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was depressing to write.
> 
> Yes, the title comes from a Frozen song. It just seemed to fit.

_Deep breath._

Roman fixes a smile upon his face; Thomas is calling, and he can’t let himself appear as anything but what he is expected to be. He is the creative side, after all, the egotistical, dramatic, flamboyant prince who never feels anything other than royal. It’s his job to be always optimistic, always ready with a nickname or a song, always cheerful and ready to take anyone who will go along on a flight into the fantastic. Even when he feels more like hiding himself away for days or weeks or months, it’s his job to be there, building lofty castles in the clouds.

_Poker face._

Don’t react to the insults, the teasing, the dismissal. He’s used to it. Besides, he’s the actor. This is just another part to play, regardless of whether or not he wants to play it. And he doesn’t, not really. There are times when he wants nothing more than to cry out his misery to the world, or at least, to Thomas. But that’s not an option. He can’t tell Thomas, can’t burden him with his defectiveness. He can’t tell the other traits, either. So he just goes on. Keeps a smile on his face, and no one notices how he is jagged and broken and bleeding inside.

_Carry on._

Just make it through the day, and then through the next. Take a breath and keep going, no matter what. There’s no time to rest, to slow down or even stop. He has so much to do. He has to push down his negative feelings and power through it. Roman knows this, knows how to do this. He’s had plenty of practice, so this is nothing new. His mask is flawless, even in the face of disdain and disappointment. That is nothing new, either.

_And when you can’t do it anymore…_

It’s getting harder. His princely armor is getting dented; his shield is spotted with rust. Weaknesses and faults are appearing. Logan’s cutting put-downs, Virgil’s sardonic, teasing insults, even Patton’s well-intentioned, gentle chidings; they’re digging deeper, slipping past his armor like an assassin’s blade to strike at his very core. His mask is developing a web of hair-thin cracks, fractures in the once immaculate surface. Repairs need to be made, before the final blow shatters his mask, his shield against showing the world just how broken he is, into so much fine dust.

_When you need to stop pretending just for a moment…_

Roman waits until Thomas is asleep and slips out of his room in the mindscape, padding feather-light through the halls like a wary tomcat. He is heading for a corner of Thomas’s mind that the other three rarely venture into; the subconscious. What happens there, stays there. He keeps an eye out for Virgil, but it seems the dark trait has decided against creating nightmares tonight. So much the better. Virgil is asleep, and Thomas won’t wake up with his heart racing. Better for all three of them.

_When everyone else is asleep, find somewhere you can hide…_

There is a spot in the subconscious that the creative trait has made his own, with barricades against intrusion and a system in place to alert him if anyone comes near. It’s in this spot that he stops, lowers himself to the ground, and curls up, putting his face in his hands. His shoulders start shaking, but not a sound emerges from the miserable ball.

_… and **break.**_

Roman cries.


End file.
